Unlucky Thirteen?
by Janet2
Summary: Jesse pushes his luck when he purchases something without Steve's knowlegde.


The usual disclaimers apply. I do not own, nor have any rights to any of the regular Diagnosis Murder characters. All original characters are mine. **__** **__** **_Unlucky Thirteen?_****__**

"You did what?" thundered Steve, his usual sunny visage darkening with anger as he took a menacing step forward.

Faced with his friend's obvious towering rage, Jesse quickly retreated behind the counter, placing the small piece of card he had been holding down on the surface. The smile that had been on his face faded as he realised his mistake.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

_A few weeks earlier…………….._

The room was alive with conversation. Mark, Jesse and Amanda sat at one end of the large conference table quietly waiting for the babble of conversation to die down. One by one the men and women in their business suits fell silent.

"So," said Mark, smiling that gentle smile, "do I take it that the conversation denotes approval for Dr. Travis' idea for this years Valentines Day charity dinner?"

One of the suits, inhabited by the chairman of the board, looked round at his colleagues noting their nods of agreement and said, "I think you can, Mark," he smiled before continuing, " You are not going to restrict this to single people are you? I'm sure that my wife would love the opportunity of a date with a dashing young intern."

A ripple of laughter ran round the room as Mark responded, "Well you never know, Charles, you might end up on a date with a beautiful female intern."

"Put me down for a couple of tickets then, Mark," replied Charles through the laughter.

The annual Valentines Day charity dinner was an important date in the social calendar of both Community General and Los Angeles. The limited numbers of tickets were highly sought after and, for many, it was the highlight of their year. Jesse had come up with a novel twist for this year's dance.  Half of the tickets were to be sold to women, the other half to men. The twist was that both set of tickets would be numbered in pairs so that, on the night, everyone with a ticket would have a partner for the evening. 

The meeting broke up soon after and Mark, Jesse and Amanda made their way back to Mark's office. Making himself comfortable in of the chairs Jesse said, in a extremely self-satisfied tone of voice, "Well, that went very well. I knew that the board would like my idea."

"That meeting was just the start, Jess, there is so much more to be done," said Mark.

"I know," Jesse responded, "but the committee will take care of all that……… won't they?"

"Yes, they will but as it was your idea I expect you to be very active in persuading people to buy tickets and make the evening the success that it has been in previous years."

"No pressure there then," joked Amanda, as Jesse's 'eager puppy' look faded a little.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Later that week the hospital was buzzing with the theme for the ball. In the accounts department two young women were trying to persuade a third to join in the fun.

"Come on, Faith, it will be a blast," Amy said, looking at her colleague who was vehemently shaking her head.

Faith hadn't been working at Community General for very long. In fact, she had only recently moved to LA from Detroit.  She had been surfing the Internet one night and had come across a website for the city of Los Angeles. It had looked so welcoming and sunny that she made a sudden decision. Now that Terry was dead she had nothing to keep her in Detroit and maybe it was time for a completely new direction to her life. Continuing to check out the Internet she came across the website for Community General Hospital and saw that they were looking for someone in their accounts department. Within a short space of time, Faith had applied for and been offered the job. She came out of her reverie to hear her friend say,

"Faith, come on, it's not as if it's going to cost a fortune. The idea is that we can pay whatever we can afford for the tickets. The board members, their friends and the like, will pay the big-bucks," Babs paused, seeing indecision cross Faith's face, then continued, "You never know your luck, you could end up being paired with some gorgeous young intern, like that Alex Martin."

At that Faith grinned, "I think he's bit young for me, Babs."

"Aha!" Babs was triumphant, "she's noticed him! Come on, let's go and get our tickets now before she changes her mind."

Amy and Babs scooped a protesting Faith up out of her chair and five minutes later they entered the administration offices where the tickets were being sold. 

"Now," said a stern faced woman, dressed in very severe garb, "you understand what will happen on the night. You have a number on your pink ticket which will match that of your partners blue ticket. Every table will have numbered place settings and that is when you will find out who your partner for the evening will be." 

"Cool, a humungous blind date!" said Amy, looking down at the stern face and continued with a wicked grin, "have you bought your ticket, Miss Donovan?"

If it were possible, Miss. Donovan's lips pursed even tighter as she replied, "No, young lady, I have not, nor do I intend to. I do not approve and I do not think that Dr. Travis is to be in any way commended for this idea. In my opinion, it is a licence for people to misbehave."

The three girls looked at each other and hurried out of the office before being overcome by gales of laughter. Walking back to their office, they checked out each others tickets numbers.

Faith groaned, "Oh terrific! Guess what number my ticket is?" Without waiting for an answer she continued, "Thirteen! My ticket number is thirteen! For goodness sake, I don't need any help with bad luck."

"Oh, phooey," said Amy, who had no patience with so-called bad-luck omens, "it's a number the same as any other."

"Mmmm," Faith didn't sound convinced, but gave in gracefully. Truth to tell, she was pleased Amy and Barbara had persuaded her to go. It was time she started socialising again; Terry would want that, even if it did end up being with one of the formaldehyde soaked orderlies from the morgue. 

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As they sat eating lunch together, a week before the dinner, Jesse gleefully informed Mark that ticket sales were going well. All the ladies tickets had been sold although there were a few tickets left for the men but Jesse, being the eternal optimist that he was, saw no problem in that. He intended to speak to Steve asking him to encourage the guys at the precinct to buy tickets and he told Mark of his plan.

Mark's smile faded a little at this and he said, "I don't think that that would be a good idea Jesse. Steve isn't going to the ball so he couldn't ask his colleagues to go."

Jesse was amazed, it had simply not occurred to him that Steve would not support a charity event for an institution that had saved his life on countless occasions. 

"Did he say why?" he enquired of Mark.

"He didn't specify, but I do recall phrases like 'hell freezing over' and 'dead body'," chuckled Mark. He looked at Jesse and carried on, "You know how he is about his love life, Jess. Blind dates simply are not his thing."

"Hmph!" was the only reply to be heard from Jesse as he stacked his tray, although Mark did think he caught the words 'beggars can't be choosers' as Jesse disappeared through the canteen doors.

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That evening Steve and Jesse were found working at BBQ Bobs. It had been a very busy evening and neither friend had much chance to talk. Eventually the rush died down and as the final satisfied customer left, Jesse decided to give Steve the item he had purchased for him earlier on in the day. 

"You did what?" thundered Steve, his usual sunny visage darkening with anger as he took a menacing step forward.

Faced with his friend's obvious towering rage, Jesse quickly retreated behind the counter, placing the small piece of card he had been holding down on the surface. The smile that had been on his face faded as he realised his mistake.  

 "Steve. Buddy. C'mon." he stammered nervously, although his genius for putting his feet in it caused him to continue, "I thought I was doing you a favour, you haven't had a date in ages."

Steve's eyes sparkled as he took another step. 

"Okay, okay," Jesse conceded, "I got it wrong, don't shoot me."

Through gritted teeth Steve said, "At this moment that is a VERY tempting option."

The atmosphere between the two was very frosty whilst they cleared up and banked the evening's takings. Steve left the restaurant without saying goodnight and very pointedly left the ticket for the dance exactly where Jesse had put it.   Jesse picked it up and put it in his jacket pocket. He had been a little shaken at the strength of Steve's response, but he was determined that Steve would go to the dance.

The next day Jesse pulled his car into his space outside Community General. Locking it up, he looked around the car park and groaned quietly to himself as his eyes alighted on Steve's white truck a few metres away. The last thing he wanted was to see Steve before that gentleman had had time to calm down. He knew, from previous experience, that Steve's temper simmered for a few days before abating to a safe level. Keeping a weather eye out for his tall, broad shouldered friend, Jesse slunk along the corridor before entering the doctors changing room with a sigh of relief. He took off his jacket and pulled on his lab coat. Before leaving, he rummaged in his jacket pocket and fished out the now rather crumpled ticket he had tried to give Steve the night before. Stepping back out into the corridor he was just in time to see Steve's back disappear into the elevator and he relaxed a little. The next second, however, he jumped almost six inches into the air as a hand was laid on his shoulder. 

Looking round he saw Mark standing there watching him watch the elevator doors close. 

"You're okay for the rest of the day, Jess," he paused a little and then said in a soft tone, "That really wasn't very clever, you know, buying that ticket. Steve hates to be manipulated and that's what he feels you've done. Give him a few days and he should be okay."

Having come to the same conclusion Jesse glanced at Mark and said, " I know, I know. I really was trying to help though Mark." He plunged his hand into one pocket of his lab coat and handed the ticket to Mark saying, "Here you take this. Maybe you can persuade Steve to go."

Taking the ticket Mark said, "I'll try Jess, but don't hold your breath."

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Two floors up another conversation was taking place about the dinner. The topic of this conversation however was clothing. Amy, Babs and Faith were discussing what to wear.

"I've never been to anything like this before," said Faith, "how formal is it?"

"The men wear their best bib and tucker and the women wear evening dress," replied Babs.

"I can't decide whether to buy something new or just hire a dress for the evening," Amy was thinking out loud.

"I'm hiring. How often are you liable to wear a really snazzy dress?" Babs asked.

"True," conceded Amy, deciding, "I'll hire a dress then. Shall we go and have a look after work, Faith?"

"We can do," Faith began, "I don't need anything though, I already have a dress that would be suitable."

There was silence for a few seconds then Amy exclaimed, "Don't just leave it there, Faith. Details, girl, details!"

"It's very plain actually," began Faith, her voice a little wistful, "it's a floor length lilac halter neck in silk, with six little buttons going down the front. I have some gold sandals and a purse to match. It feels so soft and smooth when I'm wearing it, almost  like I haven't got it on at all."

Both Amy and Babs were struck by the simplicity of the design and the obvious affection that Faith had for the dress. Reaching across, laying a hand on her friends arm, Babs said, "There's more to this than you are saying, isn't there?"

Faith looked across at her friends and said, "It was the dress that Terry bought for my birthday, the day before he was killed. It was delivered the day after his funeral. He never saw me wear it."

There was a charged silence in the room for a few minutes and then Amy said, "I think he would be pleased to know that you are wearing it for something like this."

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Despite Steve's best efforts at putting Jesse's stunt out of his mind it hung there, like the smell of their special sauce on his clothes after a session in Bob's kitchen. For some reason that Steve couldn't quite fathom he was intensely irritated. Deep down he knew that Jesse had been trying to help but it made him feel like a charity case and he wasn't about to let Jesse off the hook too easily. Steve knew very well that he hadn't had a date in ages but he didn't like the idea of getting one that way. Shaking his head he hauled himself from behind his desk with the intention of refilling his cup with that brown sludge that the department laughingly called coffee. He had taken two steps when his phone rang. Some sixth sense told him that it was his dad on the phone. He walked back and picked up the receiver saying, "Hi, Dad, what do you want?"

"How do you know I want anything?" asked Mark, in a mock aggrieved tone that indicated to his son that he had been right on the money.

With resignation etched across his handsome features, Steve sat down and waited patiently for the other shoe to drop.

Listening to the silence from the other end of the phone, Mark realised that Steve was waiting for him to say something.

"I just wanted to know if you were free for lunch today," he said.

Sighing and looking up at the ceiling above his desk Steve decided that he might as well get the 'come to the dinner' pitch over and done with and said, "Actually I am. Are you buying?"

"I certainly am," replied Mark, pleased that Steve had said yes so readily, "Meet me in my office about one."

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Just after one Steve entered Mark's office to find his dad sitting behind his desk scrutinising some paperwork. There was a young woman leaning over his shoulder explaining a couple of points and they both looked up as the door opened. 

"Hi, Son," Mark smiled before looking up at the young woman saying, "that's fine, Faith. Can you get those out to the board members by tonight?"

"No problem, Dr. Sloan," Faith responded, very aware of the gorgeous man in front of her.

"Oh, Faith, this is my son, Steve," Mark introduced.

Faith shook Steve's outstretched hand saying, "I'm pleased to meet you."

"The same goes for me," responded Steve, smiling as his glance took in the blonde hair, blue eyes and attractive features of the woman in front of him.

Deciding, given Steve's current state of distraction, that it might be a good time to bring the Valentines dinner into the conversation Mark spoke, "Have you bought a ticket for the dinner, Faith?"

Ignoring Steve's quiet, but unmistakably disgusted snort, Mark fixed Faith with his most engaging smile.

"Yes I have," she responded, "Amy, Babs and I bought our tickets together."

"Good for you," Mark answered.

"I'd better get back on," Faith said, not picking up on the undercurrent between Mark and his son.

As Faith was leaving she heard Steve say," I am NOT going, Dad so don't try to sweet talk me."

"Wouldn't dream of it son," replied Mark  blandly.

Faith had almost reached the elevator door when she realised that she had left the paperwork on Mark's desk. Tutting to herself she turned around and made her way back to Mark's office.

Reaching out to grasp the door handle, Faith heard Steve speak,

"Just out of curiosity, Dad what number is that ticket?"

Mark fished in his pocket and drew out the slightly crumpled piece of card, "Number thirteen."

The tone of the reply was scathing,

"Well, how appropriate. Number thirteen, unlucky for some. It's certainly going to be unlucky for the person with the matching ticket. I don't know how single people could go along with this hare-brained scheme, they would have to be desperate!"

Neither of them saw Faith standing, white faced, in the doorway.  On hearing these words, she turned and fled without hearing Mark telling his son, in no uncertain terms, what he thought of his attitude towards Community General's premier charity event.

"I don't know what's gotten into you son," he continued as they were making their way to the car, "You are usually so reasonable."

"I know dad, it's just that Jesse touched a nerve and I can't seem to think rationally." Steve replied.

"Well think about this. Forget your ego and think about the woman who is going to be sitting on her own feeling very foolish when her partner doesn't show."

Steve shot a sideways glance at his father and thought that, no matter what age he was, there were times when Mark could still reduce him to the status of a grubby little schoolboy. He sighed and said, "Okay. You win. I give in. I'll go."

"There's a good boy," said Mark, reaching up and ruffling Steve's hair.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Faith was sitting alone in the canteen, the food on her plate growing rapidly colder as she pushed it around with a plastic fork. She was oblivious to the stares of the other people as they noticed, and avoided, her obvious misery.  Misery that obvious was often difficult to sort out and most people had neither the time nor inclination to get involved. Only one person cared enough to do so. Faith looked up as she realised someone had sat down opposite her. She encountered the sympathetic smile of Dr. Amanda Bentley. Placing a soft, well manicured hand on Faith's arm she said, "Hi, I'm Amanda Bentley. You look really upset. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's nothing," Faith said quietly.

"It looks more like something to me." Amanda countered, "You're new here, aren't you? What's your name?"

"It's Faith Jacobs,"she replied, "and I have just started to work in accounts."

"With Babs?" Amanda asked.

A smile flitted across Faith's face and she said, "That's right."

"Care to tell me what's upset you?" Amanda persisted, "I've been told that I'm a good listener."

Looking at Amanda and sighing Faith said, "It's a combination of a 'what' and a 'who' actually."

Raising her eyebrows, Amanda waited for Faith to continue.

"It's this Valentines dinner," she began, "Babs and Amy persuaded me to buy a ticket, but I'm having second thoughts now."

"Why?" Amanda questioned.

"That brings me to the 'who'," Faith continued, "by a sheer fluke, I have found out who has got the matching ticket number to mine. The only trouble is, someone else bought the ticket for him and he has no intention of attending. I overhead him say that only desperate single people would buy a ticket."

Amanda bristled, as much on her own behalf as Faith's, for she had bought a ticket as well and she did not see herself as at all desperate, "What moron would say something like that?"

"I met him when I was going over some paperwork with Dr. Sloan. I think he said it was his son."

"Steve." said Amanda grimly, with a look on her face that boded ill for that gentleman when next they met. 

"You know him?" Faith asked.

"Very well indeed," replied Amanda, "He's a police lieutenant. However, after I'm through with him he won't be fit for duty for a while."

Horrified, Faith pleaded with Amanda, "Don't say anything. I don't want to cause trouble."

 "Okay." Amanda conceded, "For now at least. However, at some point Steve Sloan is going to get a piece of my mind. I don't quite understand though, why should Steve's views make you change your mind?"

"Because as the number on his ticket matches mine, I'll be the only person sitting there without a partner."

Thinking for a moment Amanda said, "Don't worry about it. I will have a word with the organisers and make sure that we will be on the same table. In fact, I'll make sure that Babs and Amy are with us as well."

"Thank you," Faith said, then squared her shoulders and continued," I will go and enjoy myself. Why should I let some Neanderthal spoil my enjoyment?"

"Quite right" said Amanda, hugely enjoying the thought of recounting the 'Neanderthal' quip to Steve, not to mentioned Mark and Jesse. 

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The day of the Valentines Charity Dinner finally dawned. For some people that dawn brought with it a variety of emotions. Excitement, anticipation, nervousness and, in one case, resignation. Steve had spent the last week heartily regretting the fact that he had given in so easily to his dad's emotional blackmail. He kept trying to convince himself that it was just one evening, just a few short hours out of his life. Trouble was, he couldn't shake the thought that paying for a date was the first step on the slippery slope.  To make things worse he was off-duty that day and consequently had nothing to keep his mind occupied. Sitting outside on the deck eating a late, solitary breakfast Steve looked out over the ocean. Watching the waves breaking onto the sand he decided that, rather than brood, he'd get his board out and ride a few of them. Physical activity always soothed his mind.

Whilst Steve was out on the ocean Faith was in the office she shared with Babs and Amy, doing her best not to think about the coming evening. She laid her dress out on her bed before leaving for work. Standing, that morning, at the foot of her bed she had looked at the dress and wondered, for the hundredth time, if it was worth getting dressed up simply to be stood up, as she fully expected to be. Babs and Amy, by contrast, were full of anticipation having managed to find out, through various and devious means, who had their matching tickets. Amy was thrilled to find out that her partner was to be Alex Martin, everyone's favourite medical student. Babs wasn't quite as thrilled, because her partner was Mark, she had been hoping for someone a little younger.

"Still," she said to the others, "at least I know I'll get a decent dance. I'm told that Dr. Sloan is pretty nippy on his feet."

Jesse was, despite his best efforts, feeling very nervous about the dinner. Although he had had little to do with the actual nitty gritty of the organising, the theme had been his idea and he felt a measure of responsibility for its success. Standing in front of his bathroom mirror he struggled to form his tie into a shape that didn't look as if it had been prepared by a gorilla. Eventually achieving a passable end product and putting on his jacket he picked up his ticket, keys and left his apartment. 

Amy, Babs and Faith had decided to get ready together at Faith's apartment as she lived the nearest to the hotel. Standing in the middle of her lounge, the three girls looked each other up and down and Babs said, "Those poor guys don't stand a chance. Let's go get 'em."

The function room of the Bayside Hotel was looking stunning. From the doorway into the room it seemed as if there was a sea of tables stretching as far as the eye could see, set around a dance floor in the centre. Each table was covered with a blue damask cloth with a contrasting pink one that was slightly offset. Ten places were set at each table and, placed alternately, were pink and blue cards with matching numbers etched into the card in gold lettering.  

By eight o'clock all of the seats, bar one, were occupied and dinner was being served. Faith was disappointed because, despite everything, she had hoped that Steve would turn up. Even Mark had given up looking at the door and, for those who knew him, there was a glint in his eye that meant he was severely displeased with his son. Waiters were flitting purposefully between the kitchen and the tables so Faith did not look up when she felt someone stop behind her assuming it was her dinner being served.  It was only when no plate arrived in front of her that she looked up, into a pair of gorgeous blue eyes topping a slightly anxious looking smile.  Even if she hadn't realised who it was standing there, the relieved voice from across the table would have given it away.

Mark had looked up from his meal and was very relieved to see his son standing next to Faith. "Steve!" he said, in a thankful voice, "I'm glad you made it."

Flashing his dad a rather rueful smile Steve sat down next to Faith. Leaning in he whispered, "I'm sorry I'm late."

Despite feeling a little breathless at the sight of Steve in his evening wear she was determined not to make it too easy for him and replied, "Considering I wasn't expecting you at all……….." and leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid she began to apply herself to the meal which had been placed in front of her seconds after Steve's arrival.

Not realising that Faith had heard his conversation with his dad Steve glanced round the table and caught sight of Amanda hastily smothering a grin.  Mark decided to take pity on his son and asked him what he had been doing during the day. Hearing that Steve had been surfing Jesse jumped in and began plying him with questions about how high the waves were, how fast they were running. For the next few minutes Faith had the opportunity to see Steve how he really was - genuine, funny and athletic. As the meal finished, the band struck up with a quickstep. Mark whispered something in Babs ear, stood up and walked round to where Faith was sitting. He held out his hand and said, "May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

Surprised Faith took the proffered hand and followed Mark onto the dance floor. Within a couple of minutes nearly everyone on the table had taken partners and were dancing. The only two left sitting were Amanda and Steve. He stood and, like his father, held out a hand to Amanda and asked her to dance.  After a couple of revolutions around the floor Steve looked down at his partner and asked, "Okay, so what gives with the grin when I arrived, Amanda? Come to that, what have I done to deserve the icy reception from my partner?"

Hearing the genuine confusion in her friend's voice Amanda replied, "You really don't know do you?" Steve shook his head. "Faith heard you telling Mark how only desperate single people would buy a ticket for this dinner. A remark, by the way, for which you are going to suffer greatly at some point, Lieutenant Sloan," Amanda finished poking Steve, none too gently, in his chest.

"I didn't know that she had the matching ticket to mine," Steve tried to excuse himself, but Amanda, like Faith, wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"That's irrelevant," she continued, "It would still have hurt her feelings. Faith's very vulnerable right now. Her fiancé died a few months back in a car accident and I gather that this is the first time she had contemplated spending an evening with someone, even if she did buy a ticket to do it."

As Amanda was talking Steve closed his eyes in disgust at himself. He had let Jesse get to him and he had taken out his bad temper on someone that didn't deserve it. Opening his eyes, Steve looked around the dance floor and saw his father expertly twirling Faith around and saw her laughing at something Mark said. Carefully he manoeuvred Amanda so that they were next to Mark and Faith. Letting Amanda's hand drop Steve reached out and took hold of Faith's hand and very deftly swapped partners. For a second Faith looked as if she were going to object and seeing the look on her face Mark quickly danced Amanda out of reach. With great timing, the band moved from a fast quickstep to a slow waltz, enabling Steve to concentrate on his partner rather than his footwork. He slowly guided Faith towards the door and out onto the terrace beyond.  Once outside and keeping an arm around Faith's waist in case she walked away, as she looked very much like she wanted to do, Steve led her to a secluded seat.

Sitting, but pointedly further along the seat, Faith folded her hands in her lap and looked out over the blinking lights of the city and its traffic. In spite of himself Steve grinned. She really wasn't going to make apologising easy.

"Faith, "he began, after a silence that seemed to last for ever, "I want to apologise and explain, if I can, my behaviour over the past few days."

Turning in her seat Faith looked at Steve with an expression that could have been carved from granite. 

"Amanda told me that you overheard what I said to Dad about single people," he began.

"**_Desperate_** single people I believe was the phrase Lieutenant. Sloan." Faith interjected stiffly.

"Ouch! I felt that one go past," said Steve, trying to lighten the moment a little, "Okay, desperate single people then. I am really sorry that you were hurt by that. I can only plead temporary insanity. For some reason I had got a bee in my bonnet about buying a ticket for a date. Then Jesse bought one for me and, well, I went a little nuts for a while. My dad tore me off a strip and forced me to remember that it was for a good cause. I mean, if it wasn't for Community General and its staff I would have been a goner ten times over."

Having made discreet enquiries about him over the past few days Faith knew that the apology she was hearing was genuine. People had nothing but nice things to say about Steve Sloan.

She smiled and Steve, seeing that smile answered it with one of his own.

"Can we start over please?" he asked, holding out his hand, "My name is Steve Sloan and I very pleased to meet you."

Allowing her hand to be engulfed Faith replied, "Faith Jacobs. The feeling is mutual."

Then, not knowing what to say, she returned her attention to the ever changing vista of the city laid out in front of her. After a while, Steve sat down next to her.

"I love LA," he said, "It is a place of such contrasts. City life living side by side with mountains and the ocean. There aren't many places in the world where you can live such a diverse lifestyle."

Faith pulled her gaze away from the Christmas tree skyline and looked across at Steve, deeply impressed with the sincerity of his words.

"Do you have a favourite place?" she asked.

"The ocean," Steve answered without a second's hesitation, "however bad the day has been I know that all I have to do is to stand by the ocean for a while and it soothes me."

"I've been too busy to get the beach yet." Faith answered, a little pensively, "Finding somewhere to live and settling into my job has taken all of my energies so far."

"How would you like to take a moonlight walk on the beach?" Steve asked suddenly.

"That sounds nice," Faith responded, not quite taking Steve's meaning.

"Come on then," Steve rose to his feet.

"Now?"

"Why not?" Steve answered.

"What about the ball?" Faith wanted to know.

"They won't miss two people from the crowd that's in there." Steve responded, "Come on, what do you say?"

"Okay," Faith agreed, coming to a decision, "I just need to get my wrap and my purse and I'll meet you out front."

On reaching the table Faith was just about to pick up her purse and wrap when she heard Mark's voice say, "Not leaving already, Faith?"

Involuntarily Faith glanced towards the main door to the function room. Following her gaze Mark saw his son making his way out of the door in what could only be described as a furtive manner. Grinning Mark said, "I see. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Faith."

Blushing furiously, Faith muttered goodnight and fled for the door. Waiting outside the hotel Steve watched Faith's red faced approach and asked anxiously, "Who saw you? Please tell me it wasn't Jesse."

"No," Faith replied, "It was your dad."

"Phew!," Steve was relieved, after all the fuss he had made about going it would have been a disaster to have been caught sneaking out early with his date by Jesse. He'd never hear the end of it. 

Faith had a sudden thought, "I don't think I'm dressed for a walk on the beach," she said, looking down at her dress.

"Ah, I see what you mean," said Steve, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"No problem," Faith replied, thinking quickly, "I live not far from here, so we could swing by my place on the way to the beach."

"Good thinking, Batman," Steve said as he helped Faith get into his truck.

Forty minutes later Steve pulled up outside the beach house and he and Faith got out. She had changed into blue jeans and a turtle neck sweater in contrasting red. Over the top she wore a leather jacket with a surfing logo on the back.  Leading her around to his unit, Steve unlocked his door and stood back to allow Faith to enter.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, moving across the living area towards his bedroom, "I won't be long."

Instead of sitting down Faith wandered around taking in her surroundings. She noticed the large collection of CD's standing next to a very impressive stereo system. Taking a closer look, Faith was pleased to note that Steve had a very eclectic taste in music. Much like herself, she mused. There were a number of photographs on the walls and various pieces of furniture around the room. She recognised Amanda, Jesse and Mark. There was a cute one of Steve and Mark all dressed up ready to go fishing. One photograph in particular caught her eye. It was of Steve and a stunning blonde woman. They had their arms around each other and were smiling happily into the camera. She picked it up to have a closer look and nearly dropped it when a voice in her ear said, "Beautiful isn't she? That's my sister, Carol."

Faith turned, smiled and said, "Yes, you both take a great photograph," to her surprise, there was a measurable amount of relief in her voice as she spoke. 

Steve obviously heard it too, for he grinned, leant forward  and kissed her gently on the lips before stepping back and saying, "Come on, the beach awaits."

Faith followed Steve back outside, her mind in a whirl. No-one had been able to get close enough, in a mental or physical sense, to kiss her since Terry had died. Up to the second that Steve's lips had touched hers, she would have staked good money that she still wasn't ready for that to happen. Now she wasn't so sure. Faith found it difficult to walk on the beach, even in her sensible boots and when, for the third time, she had stumbled Steve reached out and pulled her close to his body, keeping his arm firmly locked around her waist. Faith contemplated pulling away, but the feel of that muscular body close to hers was so good that she relaxed into the embrace. She even went so far as to reach around Steve's waist and hook her thumb into one of his belt loops and for a while they walked along in companionable silence.  

"I really am sorry about what you overhead, Faith," Steve's voice broke into the silence, 

"If it's any consolation at all, both Dad and Amanda given me a really hard time about it. That really isn't like me at all."

"Mmm, I know," murmured Faith, who had relaxed into the warmth of Steve's body and was less guarded in her reply than she would normally have been, "I asked people about you and what they told me just didn't go along with what I overheard. So I sort of guessed that you were out of sorts."  

"Really?" asked Steve with a glint in his eyes that, had she know him better, would have warned Faith, "and you STILL gave me a hard time over dinner."

"Yes…….well……I'm afraid I couldn't resist," Faith laughed.

"I know the feeling," Steve murmured as he turned Faith towards him and bent his head down towards hers, covering her mouth with his own in a kiss that left her hanging onto the lapels of his jacket for support, her knees having turned to jelly.

Lifting his head Steve looked around and guided Faith to a nearby sand dune and sat down. They sat for a while in silence then, looking up into Steve's face Faith whispered, "That's the first time anyone has really kissed me since Terry died. Thank you."

"Thank you?" Steve was mystified. 

"I didn't know how I would feel or react," Faith turned to gaze over the ocean, its rippling waves catching the moonlight, "Now I do."

"How do you feel?" persisted Steve.

"Like I can move on. I think a part of me was holding onto the past and Terry. It felt safe there. No-one could hurt me and I think that that is what I was afraid of……….being hurt. That is why I was angry at you. You found a way through my armour and permitted me to feel again."

Hugging her closer to him, Steve said, "What do you want to do now?"

"I'd like to go home." Faith replied, "I need to be on my own to think."

"Okay, I understand," Steve stood up pulling Faith up with him and, slowly, they walked back to Steve's truck. 

Dropping Faith off at her apartment Steve went back home and straight back out on the beach.

He sat in his favourite thinking spot and contemplated the events of the evening. He finally decided that he would give Faith some space to sort out how she felt and, having come to that decision, went to bed and had the best night's sleep he had had in over a week.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

A few days later Steve awoke, to find his dad standing over him sporting a large grin. Steve hoisted himself up so that he was leaning against his favourite blue checked pillowcase, pulling the quilt up around his shoulders.

"Whadya want?" he mumbled, sleepiness slurring his speech.

"Someone has left you a present, Son," Mark replied.

Forcing his eyes back open, Steve noticed a long rectangular gold box, tied up with a red ribbon in his dad's hands. From the depths of his sleep raddled brain his cop instincts surfaced and, throwing back the covers, Steve got out of bed.

"I'm not expecting anything," he said, "put it down on the table over there. Carefully."

"Eh?" Mark asked in some confusion, although he complied with Steve's order. Then his brow cleared, "Steve, it's not a bomb."

"How do you know?" his son asked, carefully circling the table, examining the box from all angles.

"Because I know who sent it."

At that Steve looked up and asked, "Who?"

In answer Mark drew the thumb and forefinger of his right hand across his lips, miming the action of locking his mouth and throwing the key away.

"Why would someone send me a ……." Steve opened the box, "single red rose?"

"It is Valentines Day, Steve," said Mark.

Light finally dawned and Steve said, "Oh right." Rummaging in the box he picked up a small pink card and read the writing, "Meet me at Del Monico's restaurant this evening at seven."

Looking up Steve said, "Del Monico's? Hmm, guess I'll have clear the mothballs out of a suit."

"Good idea," Mark grinned as he left his son to get ready for the day………and his date. 

At 6.45 that evening Steve pulled up outside the restaurant, handed his keys to the valet parking and made his way inside. Walking up to maitre d' Steve said, "I'm meeting someone here at seven, I'm afraid I don't know the name."

"If you could tell me your name, Sir, perhaps your host has left it with us," the exquisitely attired man replied.

"Steve Sloan," Steve replied, trying to catch a glimpse of the booking list as the maitre d' scanned it.

"Ah yes, Mr. Sloan. Let me show you to your table."

Becoming more intrigued by the second, Steve allowed himself to be led through an already crowded restaurant to one of the private rooms at the back. Opening the door the maitre d' ushered Steve in and after asking him if he'd like a drink, shut the door and left him on his own. Choosing the seat facing the door Steve sat down, relaxed and took in his surroundings. The room was elegantly decorated with deep red wallpaper which had a pattern embossed in gold on it. The only lighting was from a number of beautiful Tiffany style lamps on the wall which caused the light to gather in pools around the room, giving it a relaxed atmosphere. The table was set for two and, next to it, was a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne was already nestling in its depths. 

As Steve was scanning the room the door opened and he turned to see Faith standing there. A gentle smile spread across his face as she said, "Hello, Steve. I'm glad you decided to accept my invitation."

Walking across the room Steve cupped Faith's chin in his hand, tipped her face up towards him and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm glad you invited me," he replied.

Taking hold of Steve's other hand; Faith drew him to the table saying, "Let's eat."

Over a delicious meal of sautéed scallops, chicken in a mouth-watering peach and orange sauce, topped off with pineapple mallow, Steve and Faith got to know each other. They laughed over embarrassing dates, commiserated with each other over lost loves and, in the process, discovered that they were very much attracted to each other. 

Much, much later Steve pulled up outside Faith's apartment block and turned the engine off.

Turning to Faith he said, "Thank you for a wonderful evening. I haven't had such a good time in ages."

"Shouldn't that be my line?" joked Faith.

"Only if you're thinking it," replied Steve.

"Well I am," Faith responded. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "It took a lot of courage for me to go out with you this evening. I haven't been out on a date since Terry died and I have spent the last week trying to figure out what I was thinking and feeling. I finally decided that it was time to move on."

"I'm honoured you chose me," Steve replied, reaching across and pulling Faith into his arms lowering his head to kiss Faith's warm, and responsive lips.

A long time later and Faith sat leaning against Steve's shoulder when she suddenly heard him groan. Pulling herself upright Faith asked, "What's the matter, Steve?"

"Once Jesse finds out about us I am never going to live it down."

"Never live what down?" Faith queried.

"The fact that he was right and I was wrong." Steve answered, and then chuckled, "Never mind, if he goes on too much I can always shoot him!"


End file.
